Stay Strong
by queerpoet
Summary: Luke's in a bar. Reid's not having it.
1. Stay Strong

The words leak from my brain, a catastrophic turnoff. My skin feels funny, fuzzy, fumbling for air. I enter the bar, glancing towards the bartender, who is busily scrubbing a glass. I glide towards her. My hands are shaking. I don't look her in the eyes, as I mumble, "Crown Royal, neat."

She passes me the liquid, and feeling the coolness of the shot glass in my hand is like salvation. I toss the whiskey back, and the drinks burns so good. I shut my eyes, and curl my toes. Bliss.

"Another," I mumble. She gives me another shot, but before I can drink it, a hand appears out of nowhere. It shoves the drink toward the bartender. He grabs my wrists, and wrenches me off the stool.

"He's had enough," I hear. Though I'm not even slightly buzzed, my vision blurs.

"Let go of me," I snarl.

I try to pull away, but the doctor's hands are strong. He drags me out of the bar, and forces me into the alley.

"So you can drink yourself to death?" he grunts. "Wake up, Snyder. Nothing can be bad enough to give up your sobriety."

"Too late," I say acidly. "Can't you smell it?" I smirk.

"At least I stopped you from drinking more," he shoots back. "What the fuck, Luke? Why are you trying to kill yourself?"

"I"m just a screw up." I reply. "You said it yourself."

He closes his eyes for a second, recoiling.

"This can't be about the damn hospital plans?" he says in bemusement. "You need to have more faith in yourself. I'm like that with everyone. Besides, they were awful." He jabs an accusing finger at my chest. "_You _said it yourself."

"I was joking," I reply. "You crush people very efficiently, Oliver. I was trying to save face."

He releases my wrist, and steps back. He gives me an appraising glare.

"You are harder on yourself than I could ever be. One criticism of your plans and you're in a fucking bar, ladling up the liquor. Did you somehow to manage to forget your kidney?"

"How did you even know about my kidney?" I spit. "Have you been spying on me?"

"I saw your scar, moron." he says. "In Dallas? You know, when I kissed you?" His words are bitter, and he looks away from me.

After that kiss, I'd ignored him for weeks. I threw myself into my work, and visited Noah daily. He'd responded by returning to the cold, egotistical jackass I'd first met.

My angers lessens. I tentatively reach for his shoulder.

"Reid, I'm sorry." I say gently. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You know what, forget it, Mr. Snyder. Clearly, any sign of affection from someone besides Mr. Mayer, and you plunge into a guilt-ridden downward spiral. Forgive me, get back to your booze."

He shrugs away my hand and begins walking away.

My heart pounds in my chest, as I watch his retreating back.

I run after him, grab his hips and shove him against the wall.

My eyes are hypnotized, watching his mouth. His tongue flicks in and out, slowly.

"Nervous? You?" I grin. I press my mouth against his, letting my tongue glide against the underside of his mouth.

His hands tangle in my hair, and pull, tightly. He begins to buck against my hips, and then suddenly - he pushes me away.

"I can't," he murmurs. "Come back to me when you're sober."

"I just had one -" I begin.

"That's what everyone says," he interrupts. "Your first in years. Get to a meeting. And here -" he jots down something on a receipt. "She's the best nephrologist in the country. Clearly, that hack you have now hasn't sufficiently warned you about drinking."

His fingers graze my palm, as he presses the receipt in my hand. With his free hand, he caresses my cheek.

"You're not alone, Luke. I want you - " his breath hitches, his eyes widen. "I want you around." he finishes gruffly.

I lean into his touch, but he gently extracts his hand.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Snyder." he says over his shoulder.

I nod, then call out, "Tomorrow? You don't work tomorrow!"

He turns his head, his mouth turning upward slightly. "Breakfast, Luke." he says simply. "You might have heard of it. I'll pick you up at nine."

He walks off into the night, leaving me standing alone in the alley. I look down at the piece of paper in my hand, and am surprised to find more just than a phone number.

The first is the phone number, but underneath it, he's written, "Stay strong."

I put the receipt securely in my pocket, and turn to walk back home.

I exhale, every nerve twitching. I feel - free.

I pat the paper, and say softly to the night air, "I will."


	2. Freakout

Covered in sweat, I sit up straight in bed, my heart racing. Something was chasing me, trying to jab me with sharp, pointy sticks. I blink blearily at my phone on the nightstand, and realize who it was. 5 missed calls - from Noah. I pick up the phone, and listen to the voicemails.

"Luke, it's Noah. Are you okay? You ran out so fast last night - I'm worried about you. Please call me back."

"Luke, it's me again. It's about midnight, and I haven't heard anything from you. You're scaring me. You had a look in your eye like - just call me, okay? I love you."

"Dammit, what's wrong? I try and kiss and I felt you leap back like you were burned. What's going on?"

I can't listen to anymore. I turn off the phone, and throw it across the room. I sit back on my bed, and try to stifle the sobs. But they come anyway.

Leaving my blind boyfriend to drink, then kissing another man the same night, I think bitterly. A real prize, Luke Snyder.

I glare at the clock. It's 8:30. I throw on some clothes, and shove the phone into my pocket. As I do, I feel the piece of paper from last night.

Reid. I trace the words with my fingertips, and trying to draw power from them.

Stay strong.

I need to deal with Noah. I can't put it off a minute longer.

I think about sending Reid a text, but decide I have to call him.

I wait in agony for him to answer. Though he answers on the first ring, it seems to take forever for him to pick up.

"Good morning, Luke." he says cheerily, not something I would normally associate with Reid. "Are you feeling better?"

"I looked up that doctor last night," I say, making patterns in the bedspread. "You're right, she looks great. Reid, I -"

"Of course, she's great," he says wryly. "She's my recommendation. What is it? Your voice sounds strange."

"It's Noah," I answer softly. The words are difficult in my mouth; I want to choke on them. "He left me several voicemails last night; he's freaking out. I need to see him, tell him what happened."

"Right now?" he asks, slightly indignant. "Luke, what is this? What did happen last night?"

"I - can't -" I sniffle.

"Just tell me," he interrupts, quietly insistent. "Nothing you tell me will change the way I feel about you."

"Noah wanted to fuck," I blurt out. "He feels closer to me when we - so I said sure, but the minute he kissed me, I wanted to throw up. I just kept thinking about you, and how you kissed me - and I had to - leave. So I ran out, went to the nearest bar, and asked for a shot. You know the rest. Reid, what the fuck is wrong with me? Who cheats on their blind boyfriend? Who does that?"

"I'm coming over right now," he says, and his voice is strangely gentle. "You shouldn't be alone right now."

"But -"

"Listen to me carefully, Luke. None of this is your fault. Nothing you did -"

"I have to break up with him." I interrupt. "I have to call him right now, and tell him it's over. I can't even look at him without -"

"No, you do not have to do that." he says. "You need to take care of yourself. Okay? Besides, Noah deserves to hear from you in person."

"But he's blind -" I protest. "Shouldn't I wait until -"

"He's almost ready for the surgery; I just need a few more weeks. But why are we still talking about Noah? I'm almost there. Just tell me something - tell me your favorite novel."

"Watership Down," I answer promptly. My tears have dried on my cheeks, and I no longer feel like drowning.

"That's a good one," he chuckles. "Courageous rabbits. You wanna know mine?"

"Sure," I reply. "What is it?"

I hear a brisk knock on the door.

I get up, and hear the sound of his breathing on the other side.

I open the door, and just stare at him.

"What is it?"

His eyes carve into my face, and I know he's instantly seen everything: my blotchy cheeks, the bags under my eyes.

He nods once, and his thumb grazes my cheek. His hand is surprisingly gentle.

His name forms on my mouth, but I say nothing. I just hold his gaze for a lingering moment.

The rest of his hand cups my cheek, and he enters the room, kicking the door closed without breaking eye contact.

"The first one you write," he admits, a little sheepish.

That's enough. I fall into his arms, crushing his mouth with mine. I want to feel his hair in my hands, but my hands just splay against his back, rubbing awkwardly.

His hands find my shoulders, and he rests his chin against mine.

"It's gonna be okay," he says hoarsely. "Trust me, Luke. Trust me."

I grab his face with my hands and stare into piercing blue.

"I do." I murmur.

He grins, and it utterly transforms his face. His joy is contagious.

"Good," he says. "Now can we eat? I'm starving."

I nod, and he releases me. The loss of contact is startling.

"Yes, please." I answer.

Reid opens the door for me, and waits for me to exit.

"Lead the way." he says.


	3. Breakfast

When I lead him toward Java, he grabs my hand, and gingerly strokes my palm with his thumb.

"Luke, isn't there any place in Oakdale which actually cooks you breakfast, not food which has been sitting out for hours?" His plaintive expression makes me laugh out loud.

I kiss his hangdog mouth, and answer, "Definitely. I know just the thing."

I grab his hand, and guide him a few blocks down the streets. Finally, we happen upon the rather shabby diner.

"Here?" he says skeptically.

"Best breakfast in town," I assure him, smiling.

"Okay." he says, watching my face. "Let's go."

I pull open the glass door for him, and step back.

"After you," I murmur, watching his reaction with delight. He has the joyous smile of a small child; he's practically bouncing on his feet.

"You're gonna love it." I say, resting my hand on the small of his back.

"Not the only thing I love," he answers casually.

I don't reply, just wave the waitress over to seat us. Everyone in the place knows me, and we get seated within seconds.

"What can I get for you today?" she asks.

"You know what I would kill for?" Reid says. "Breakfast tacos with the hottest salsa you have. Chorizo, egg, and potato, corn tortillas. Orange juice, ooh, and french toast on the side."

He flashes a brilliant smile, and looks up at the waitress beseechingly.

"We can do that for you, hun," she answers, grinning at him. "What would you like, sweetie?"

"Umm, gingerbread pancakes, bacon, and some milk," I reply.

"Coming right up. I'll be right back with your drinks."

"I'm surprised she knows what chorizo is," he says, amused.

I chuckle. "Reid, believe it or not, our restaurants cater to all kinds of tastes. We have to, to maintain our small-town charm."

"We'll see, won't we?" He kicks my foot under the table.

"So do you miss Texas much?"

He scoffs, and stretches to move his foot along my ankle.

"Texas, no. I never really got to know Dallas, as you already know. But the food - oh, Luke. You haven't lived until you've eaten authentic Mexican enchiladas, with Spanish rice and refried beans. I visited Austin once, and they have this restaurant which serves you twelve different kinds of salsas on a wheel. Just sublime. I found one restaurant near the hospital, and I practically lived there. I miss the food so much."

The longing in his voice makes me jealous. I look down at the tablecloth, in somber silence. I haven't had so much passion in my voice for anything in years.

"Do you miss anything else?" I say to the tablecloth. _Anyone else?_

"Why, Luke Snyder." he says, teasing. "You're not worried some cowboy is going to come to Oakdale and drag me away, are you?"

I look up, and meet his dancing eyes. "When you put it that way -"

"There's no one waiting for me. In fact, I kept my life in Dallas completely professional, except for the occasional fling."

My hand snakes across the table, and he meets me halfway.

"That's good to know." I murmur.

"I'll be honest with you, Luke. I don't play games. I'm not that guy."

I nod, and I link my foot with his foot.

We sit like that for a moment, holding hands, holding feet.

"Here you go, boys." the waitress says cheerfully. "Enjoy."

He releases my hand, to make way for the hot plates. We don't break apart in embarrassment, though, like perhaps Noah and I would have done, in the early days. Instead, it's comfortable, relaxed.

"Thank you," I say to the departing waitress.

Reid digs into his tacos, and I take a bite of my pancakes. They're delicious.

"How are your tacos?" I say, around my food.

"They are awesome. Why didn't you ever tell me about this place before?"

I smirk, and he wags a finger at me. "Wait, don't answer that. I know we haven't had the most conventional start to our relationship."

"You have some potato on your face," I reply.

His tongue darts out to find the errant potato.

"Did I get it?"

"No," I lie. I lean over, and lick the piece of potato off his lip. My hand dangles on his cheek. I can't resist a stray kiss, and plunder his mouth with my driving tongue.

I taste the chorizo and the salsa on my tongue. It's heavenly, because it tastes like Reid.

Reid drops the taco back on the plate. He's panting slightly.

"Finish your food," he says quietly.

I don't reply, but dig into my pancakes.

He polishes off his tacos, with small moans of pleasure. He glances at the French toast, then up at me.

"You have syrup on your lip," he says matter-of-factly.

"Do I?" I ask innocently.

"No." he murmurs. He hums as he kisses me, the sweet suction sending a heat missile to my groin. His hand claims my thigh underneath the table.

He doesn't remove it, as I finish eating. His French toast sits on the table, untouched.

"Dr. Oliver, not finishing his food? I'm shocked."

He rolls his hand up and down my thigh, with a practiced motion, kneading the inner muscles.

"I'm not hungry for toast."

I grunt, and shove my plate to the side.

I get my wallet out with difficulty and toss a few twenties down. I get up from the table.

"Are you all right? You're limping. You should see a doctor." he says wryly.

_Smug bastard._

"Very fucking funny," I retort.


	4. Freedom

He tries to smack my ass playfully as we leave the diner, but I grab his hand before he can.

"I'm onto you," I hiss. His hand burns my fingers, and my palms are sweating.

Our staid hand holding lasts approximately five seconds, before he pushes me against the wall with purpose.

His hands cup my cheeks, and he slowly strokes them with his thumbs.

My breathing comes in shorter and shorter gasps.

I lick my lips slowly, as his eyes burn into mine, naked with need.

But his mouth doesn't move. He even doesn't touch me at first. He just continues to stroke my face, before moving his hands to feel my hair.

"Beautiful," he murmurs.

I grab his shirt, and pull him closer.

"Reid," I whisper, before claiming his mouth.

The heat goes straight to my still tender groin, and I feel my cock spring to life. I grind against his thigh, and I'm seconds from shoving off the wall, and having my way with him. I don't give a fuck that we're in a public place.

Until.

A polite cough reaches my hearing.

He releases me with a reluctant groan, and glares at the diner employee. Thankfully, it's not our waitress.

"I'm sorry," I say quickly, before he unleash some classic snark. "We were just leaving."

I sidle out from beneath his body. He's like a coiled spring. My hand goes to the small of his back, and we walk quickly in the opposite direction.

We don't speak for a minute.

Then I hear a quiet chuckle beside me.

I spare a glance at him, and notice with amusement that his face is beet red. He gives me a small smile, and I burst out laughing.

"The look on your face," he stutters. "You looked like the teacher had just given you detention. Poor puppy - dog - Luke -" Each word is punctuated with laughter.

"It's your fault!" I exclaim. "You started it in the diner."

"What's your idea of a suitable punishment? What are you going to do with me, hmm?" he says, the giggles subsiding. He walks slowly toward me.

"You'll just have to wait and see," I scold. "I mean, really -"

"Luke?"

I turn around immediately. My blood runs cold.

"No-Noah?" I stutter.

Behind me, I feel Reid put his hands on my shoulders. He rubs them reassuringly, and I take a deep, calming breath.

"What are you doing here?" I say, trying for casual.

He's alone, wearing jeans and a tight tee. He looks good, but he has no effect on me, except fear.

"Umm, rehab," he says bashfully. "Dr. Oliver told me I have to have daily exercise, so I don't get depressed. I'm actually getting pretty good with this thing, and I'm starting to see shapes and colors, so -" He gestures to the cane. "People are helpful in giving me directions. But I heard your voice, so I followed it."

"Uh -" I squeak.

"Are you all right? I must have you called like seventeen times. You ran out last night so fast." He steps closer to Reid and I, squinting in my general direction.

"Are you with someone, Luke?" he says, confused.

"Noah," I finally say. "Now's not a good time. Dr. Oliver and I were just getting breakfast."

His eyebrows rise, in a comical fashion.

"You and Dr. Oliver? I thought you hated each other?"

"Actually, Noah, Luke and I have been spending a lot of time together." Reid says briskly. "We've grown close."

"Close?" he sputters. "How close?"

"What Reid's trying to say, Noah, is that I'm not in love with you anymore." I say firmly. A part of me hates how harsh I sound, but it's past time for this charade to be over.

"I'm very sorry, but I haven't been invested in our relationship for a long time. We just don't fit together anymore."

"I could tell you weren't happy," Noah says sadly. "But I had no idea you'd fallen for someone else. Well, I hope you two are very happy together," he concludes sadly.

"Noah, this doesn't change anything with your surgery," Reid jumps in, because Noah has turned away. "I'll do everything in my power to restore your vision."

"You should at least give me something just as precious, if you've taken someone I love away," he says ruefully. His throat works for a moment, and part of me wants to comfort him, but I just stand still, letting Reid comfort me. His arm is snugly wrapped around my waist, while his other hand rubs my neck.

"Goodbye, Luke." Noah says softly, and then he slowly walks away.

I exhale heavily.

"I shouldn't leave him like that," I murmur. "He needs -"

"He needs a shot of whiskey, and a shoulder to cry on," Reid says gently. "None of which you can provide. Right?"

I wince, and rest my chin on his shoulder.

"R-right," I mumble. I'm about to cry again. I'm trembling in his arms.

"No, no, don't do this to me." he mumbles. The words are gentle, but I can practically hear him roll his eyes. I feel his mouth, warm against my forehead.

"You are entirely too selfless for your own good, you know that? What you just did - that was a mercy killing. You set him free. You set yourself free."

"Yeah, I guess." I mumble. I dig into his back. The ground seems to shift beneath my feet.

Reid grabs my chin and tilts my head up to look into his eyes.

"In that spirit," he says gruffly. "If you could do anything in the world right now, what would it be?"

_[i]Make love to you.[/i]_

"Except that," he continues hastily. "No sex until you've stopped crying for at least an hour. Doctor's orders."

"I'd scream." I reply, without thinking. "I'd run down to Snyder Pond, screaming. Celebrating."

"And then?"

"You'd follow me, and we'd jump in the pond with all our clothes on."

He nods, and untangles himself from my body. He crosses his arms, and stares at me, challenging.

"What are you waiting for, Luke?" he says seriously. "Do it. I'll race you."

I quirk my head at him in amusement, trying to find the joke.

"Are you serious?" I ask.

Now he does roll his eyes.

"You're over thinking this. Meet you at the pond!"

He jogs onto the sidewalk, in the completely wrong direction. Before I can react, he's several feet away from me.

"You're going the wrong way!" I yell, running after him.

I catch up, and grab his elbow.

"It's this way," I say.

I let go of his elbow and turn. I sprint through the town. I'm breathing too hard to say more than a few words at first. Once I get into a steady rhythm, I burn screaming nonsense words.

"Woo hoo! Yes! Yippee!"

I don't care that my ex might be in the vicinity. All of the pressure, the months of suffocation, are lifting off my chest. My limbs are loose, and pliant.

Reid's already caught me.

"You're gonna lose this one," he says smugly. He's not even out of breath.

"Now - I - know - where - all - that - food - goes." I huff. "You never told me you work out!"

He runs in tandem with me for a few minutes, then begins to pull away.

"Catch me, Luke!" he yells over his shoulder.

I admire his firm ass moving in his jeans, and redouble my efforts.

"You bet I will," I say quietly.

We reach the pond at almost the same time, but he clearly has the advantage.

I bend over, huffing and puffing.

"That was crazy," I gasp. "I seriously need to work out more."

Reid smooths my hair back from my forehead, and I stand up straight.

"So what do I win?" he says, and his voice has changed from teasing to lustful. Underneath his t-shirt, I can see his abs undulating slowly. He is out of breath, but better at hiding it.

I link my fingers in the loops on his jeans, hooking my thumbs inside.

"I didn't yell as much as I wanted, but I still have one more wish." I say. I walk us backwards toward the pond.

"Yeah?" he says. He tilts his head to try to kiss me, but I keep my head back.

"Yeah," I answer. "THIS!"

I push him into the pond. The spectacle of Reid Oliver, coughing and sputtering water, is truly glorious.

I wade into the water, and laugh softly. "Ya okay?" I snort.

"I am now." He flicks his hair out of his eyes, and moves towards me.

I think he's going to get revenge, and try to dodge a dunking.

Reid doesn't dunk me, though. He puts his wet hands around my waist, and pulls me close to his him. His cold mouth slides against my mouth, and I open my mouth immediately. His tongue is languid, moving delicately with mine.

I feel his erect nipples against my chest.

I cup his cheek with my hand, and let the warmth sink into his skin.

"You're a free man now." he says confidently. "But I'm not. You've caught me, Luke. You kidnapped me. What are you going to do with me now?"

I feel the cool water bathe our thighs. Reid's warm breath puffs in and out, barely touching my lips.

"This," I murmur simply.

I kiss him again, and wrap my arms around his waist in a tight embrace.

"You don't get it, though, Reid." I whisper in his ear. "I'm not free. I'm -"

"S'okay," he interrupts. "If you still have feelings for him, I get it. It's normal to -"

"For once in your life, shut up." I roll over him. I lock onto his eyes; my voice is firm and unwavering. "I was over Noah the day you kissed me in Dallas. It just took me awhile to see it."

A glimmer of relief passes through his gaze, then his eyes are filled with warmth.

"Luke Snyder, boy genius." he teases. "Obviously, I'm the better catch."

"Obviously." I affirm, chuckling.

We lapse into a comfortable silence, and I bask in his slight smile.

Which is abruptly gone when he sneezes loudly.

"Shit, you should have said something." I say, concerned.

"It would ruin the moment," Reid sniffles.

I tug him out of the pond, and try to work some circulation back into his arms.

"Seriously, I'm okay. I'm just not used to the cold anymore." His hands squeeze my forearms, and I stop rubbing. "I lived in Texas for so long, so I prefer heat."

"We gotta get you warmed up, then." I fret. "I can take you back to the farm. I have towels, a shower -"

"But not clothes," he interrupts gently. "Besides, I want to take you home. Katie would love to meet my boyfriend. Her head would explode."

My heart swells, and I pick at his shirtsleeve to hide my grin.

"Sure." I mumble into his sleeve.

"I didn't catch that. I don't speak mumble." he says playfully.

I glare up at him, and repeat, "Sure. I'd love that."

His grin is part-happiness, part-relief that I didn't freak out.

"Okay." he says softly. "Okay. Let's go."

We walk into the field, arm in arm.

I can't resist. I punch his arm lightly, and tease, "You called me your boyfriend." I give him a quick kiss on the mouth to wipe the vulnerability off his expression.

It works like a charm. He looks at me with all of his confidence restored, and says, "You're damn right I did. What else would I call you?"

"Lover boy." I say.

"Sweetie pie." he shoots back.

We banter back and forth all the way to Katie's.


End file.
